Maverick pulled up in front of a building that definitely wasn’t a gas station.
“Is this a twenty-four hour diner?” I looked over at him.
“Yup. I’m dying for some pancakes.” He patted his chiseled abdomen. The scent of his blood grew stronger with the movement, and I hated that it made my fangs descend.
I’d just drank from him. I shouldn’t have been craving blood yet.
He opened his door.
I followed suit. “I don’t think the bloodstain will ever come out of that.”
“That’s because you’re shit with laundry. Come here.” He tucked me up against his side after I exited the car, lowering his nose to my hair and inhaling deeply. “I changed my mind. I want you instead of pancakes.”
“Come on.” I towed him toward the entrance. He dragged his feet, just to make my life difficult. “You’re a huge pain. Emphasis on the pain.”
“Emphasis on the huge,” he corrected.
“Emphasis on the huge and the pain.” I pulled him through the door. Though it was unlocked, the place was a graveyard.“We might have to make our own pancakes.”
A flustered-looking woman strode out of the back, her makeup smeared and her eyes bright. She smelled like sex.
She’d totally been hooking up with someone in the back. Probably the chef, considering the scent of stale grease clinging to her skin.
“We’ll take two plates of pancakes, and a stack of eggs and bacon.” Maverick held up two fingers. “Wolf-sized.”
“You’ve got it.” The woman looked him up and down slowly. The pink sweater and the bleeding shoulder didn’t seem to faze her. “No mate mark yet, huh?”
I resisted the urge to flash my fangs at her. If she was trying to hit on him immediately after fucking some dude in the back…
“Food would be great.” Maverick didn’t bother trying to charm her.
The woman nodded and walked into the back again.
“Is she a werewolf?” I asked.
“Nah, she’s human. The chef’s a wolf.”
“The one she’s screwing?”
“Yup.” Maverick led me to a booth, and waved me onto one of the benches. I took a seat, expecting him to sit across from me. Instead, he plopped down right beside me, draping an arm over my shoulders again.
“You’re never going to stop bleeding if you don’t stop moving your arm,” I said.
“It’ll heal eventually.”
I sighed in response. It was like the man wanted to be hurt.
Since he wasn’t concerned about his pain, I leaned my head against his chest and closed my eyes. The week I spent barely sleeping had officially caught up to me.
“Do you mind if I call Sutton?”
“Is that your ex’s name? The poisoner?” I didn’t lift my head from his chest. Mostly because I was tired. Partially because I didn’t want him to see jealousy in my eyes.
“Yeah. She’s not in the business anymore. I think she became a grocer or a fashion designer or something.”
“Those are extremely different potential careers.”
“We didn’t stay in touch.”
